Stay with me, don't let me go
by ElleGreenaway
Summary: One-shot, set in the 70th Hunger Games. Haymitch has to track down Effie when she doesn't put in an appearance at breakfast. When he does find her, how will Haymitch react to seeing Effie in a way he hasn't before?


**Hey guys. I know that I have another story in process, but that I started to write this for it, and then thought if I altered it; it would work best as a one-shot. So I hope you like and enjoy this.**

Usually, it is me who is constantly late for events. Refusing to exit my train cabin, unless alcoholic beverages are offered out, that is. Normally my over the top, pink covered companion in the games has to come over in her towering high heels and prod, poke, yell and dump things on me to wake me up and drag me down to meet the tributes I'll be taking to their probable death for the year.

But today I am actually up and sat across from the kids. The two District 12 tributes heading for slaughter. The boy is about fifteen, but coming from the seam he hasn't been fed well. I don't know how well he will do. He claims to be a decent runner; hopefully he will run away from the bloodbath and not get dragged into it. The girl is thirteen, I saw her outside the Hob once when I was tracking down Ripper. Scared her within a inch of her life I think. If you ask me, she doesn't stand a chance. She can't butter her bread without her hands shaking down to nerves.

"So, do either of you possess any skills that would be any help at all in these games?" I ask them. Silence. I sigh and lean backwards in my chair. The 70th Hunger Games won't be the year when District 12 gets another victor I guess. Then, when I can no longer stand looking at their hopeless faces I stand up, my abrupt movement making them both jump. "I'll be right back" I growl at them, smirking a little at the shocked looks on their faces.

I set of down the corridor of the tribute train, with only one reason to be striding down it. To find Effie Trinket. If she can drag me out of bed, surely I can do the same to her. The fact she had decided not to turn up to breakfast when he had irritated him. This is the first time in years I had made an effort to be there. And she was nowhere to be found.

I reach the door that leads to her bedroom on the train, and without knocking swing the door open. I hear it thud against the wall as I stride in, but I'm not bothered. "What do you think you're playing at?" I yell, stepping further into the room. The door behind me swinging shut. I take no notice of this. My eyes are trained on the sight I see before me. A sight I didn't expect.

"Go away" I hear her say from under her covers. I need a drink if I'm going to be dealing with this. In the time it took me to walk into her room, she managed to pull the covers over her head and turn her back to me. So with a sigh, I walk over to her bed, wrap my hand around the sheet that covers her. And pull it off, flinging the silky sheet to the floor.

I take in the sight of an almost natural Effie Trinket. Her nightclothes are just as extravagant as her usual get ups. But no other Capitol traces are on her. Her hair is a natural blonde and sprawled all over her pillow. I have only seen her natural hair on a few occasions; I could count them on my hand. These occasions are when one of our tributes makes it to the final days, and we stay up until ridiculous hours, eyes peeled on the screen. That is why I don't see it that often; it is a rare occasion when a District 12 kid makes it to the final eight. Her skin, which I know to be a soft, peachy colour, has taken on a shade of pale green.

And with a groan she rolls over to face me. Her blonde locks getting tangled up as she does so, making her look a little bit wild. "You look awful" I tell her. She glares at me. That is when I know something is wrong. I'd have gotten a slap on my arm or a clever comment in return for what I just said to her if she was her usual self. "What's wrong? You never look awful" I say to her. Pausing when I realise what I just said to her. "I mean, you never look as awful as this"

Crisis averted. But then she charged at me. Jumping up out of bed and launching herself forwards. I stand quickly and move to the side, but she isn't heading for me. Instead she ends up in the en-suite and I think the noises coming from there are her retching. "Effie?" I ask, moving forwards and walking into the bathroom. Seeing her hunched over in such a mess gives me a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach for some reason. Tentatively I move towards the sink that is to my right. There is a band next to the cold tap. Picking it up I head towards her, and for reasons unknown to me I begin to pull her hair back into a half respectable pony-tail. She can't complain too much about my lack of hair-dressing skills, it keeps the hair off her face. I tie it up using the band, and step back and lean against the shower, giving her a bit more space.

"Food poisoning" She mumbles as she shakily stands up. She flushes the toilet, and heads to the sink. Spinning the tap around, allowing a stream of water to run into a glass. She takes a sip from it before slamming it down. The next thing I know she is heading of back to her bed. The fact she walked away from me angers me a little. But seeing as you can't stay angry at someone who looks so pathetic, I manage not to yell at her. I follow her out of the bathroom and watch as she picks the sheet I discarded up, wraps it around her petite body, and lays back on the mattress. I walk over to her and examine her from arms length. "Do you want me to get someone? You look really sick"

"That's because I am really sick" Is her reply. If it wasn't for the hopeless, croaky way she said the sentence that made her sound so helpless, I'd have walked away from her. But I can't seem to do that, so I just stand there, waiting for her to say something. She doesn't though. She remains silent; her eyes close making her look a little more peaceful. Due to me wrapping her hair up and keeping it of her face, I have a free pathway towards her forehead. So I reach over to her forehead and place my hand on it, retreating immediately after contact.

"Bloody hell Effie, you're boiling" I say.

"I had some medication five minutes ago. I think that is what I just threw up" Effie says, her eyes opening again to look at me. "And are you sure? I'm freezing"

"I'm sure. I nearly burnt my hand" I tell her. She begins to wrap the blanket around her even tighter. "I'll get you some better medication from somewhere. Can't have you ill around the kids can we?" I add.

"How are they?" She asks.

"Probably annoyed that I abandoned them to search for you" I tell her. I wouldn't be surprised if they were complaining about us right now.

"Well, how does it feel to be doing the searching?" Effie asks weakly. I understand what she is saying. Every year she has to look for me in the train. I'm usually drunk and crumpled in my room. And, more often than not, slouched over the bar. I don't know why I'm not right now if I am honest. I can't remember the last time I was this sober. It's a good job I am though; with Effie like this we wouldn't have had a chance in hell of getting the kids to the Capitol in one piece if I had been of drinking.

"Annoying. I apologize for putting you through that every year" I say.

"So you'll stop?"

"I didn't say that now, did I sweetheart" I tell her. Come tomorrow I'll be drunk and she'll be her usual make up covered self.

"Well, I can hope" She says, her head repositioning itself in her pillow. Making the band in her hair become a little looser.

"So, you aren't going to be joining me and the kids?" I ask, despite knowing the answer.

"No. I feel like death"

"You look like it too" I say. Not able to help myself.

"Get lost Haymitch" She mumbles. Not cruelly, just weakly. She then rolls over so her back is facing me.

"Okay then" I say. Heading towards the door and pulling it open. I cast one last glance over my shoulder at the curled up ball named Effie Trinket before walking out.

"Wait! Haymitch!" I hear her yell. Sighing, I turn around and head back into her room. What could she possibly want now?

"What princess?" I ask her.

"Don't leave" She mumbles. And the desperate way she says it makes it impossible not to. I don't even sigh as I sit on the edge of her bed. Instead my hand finds itself running up and down her back.

"I won't" I tell her. When I say this she rolls over and her head is on my lap. The band has come loose now, and her soft, blonde hair spills out across me in its natural waves. I find my hand running through it, occasionally getting stuck in the un-brushed curls.

"This never happened, okay?" I tell her. No one can know of this. Even though, it is possible someone is watching us right now. She nods into my thigh, and I reposition myself so I am practically laid on the bed, and she is now on my chest. The hand previously used to run through her golden locks now finds itself on her waist. The silky material soft and cooling compared to her heated forehead. "Tomorrow, when you are annoying and better, you owe me a drink" I tell her.

"I won't even complain" She adds, muffled as her words get caught up in my shirt.

"That'll be a first" I say, leaning down and placing a kiss on her forehead before I can stop myself. The heat down to her fever is at an all time high. I don't know what possessed me to do this. But whilst I won't admit it to anyone, I'm not regretting it. "Get to sleep sweetheart, and when you wake up, you'll feel better" I tell her. Rocking her into her slumber.


End file.
